DOS_patos
Unverified Legion of Trill member
As more and more shootings of unarmed black men and women are brought to the public’s attention, I understand the distrust that many ― especially people of color ― have against police. As a black man, I’ve been on the receiving end of profiling and discrimination. As a father to black children, I’ve had to have “the talk” with them about how to conduct themselves in encounters with law enforcement to make sure they leave with their lives. But I’m also a cop, and I know this job is dangerous and difficult and it comes with its share of fair and unfair scrutiny.
I’ve spent the last 30 years reconciling these unique and conflicting identities. This effort was not without its struggle. I’ve tried to change the perspectives of people and officers around me, I’ve denied that I had differing perspectives of my own, I’ve tried to balance each identity and fit them into a safe — often false — narrative. All of these efforts failed.
Through these experiences, and those of so many officers and people of color, I’ve come to realize that the only way to reconcile these perspectives is to accept each experience and the truth they represent, and to allow them to co-exist. So, here are my truths.
Real reconciliation can only occur when it starts with the truth, no matter the level of discomfort it may cause. The truth may hurt, but selective ignorance is fatal.
I believe the vast majority of police officers do not engage in police brutality, but when tragedies such as the killing of unarmed black people occur, I question why so many of the victims are people who look like me. I’ve been racially profiled by the police. I’ve experienced discrimination in both my personal and professional life. I can’t help but to wonder if these shootings, regardless of their legality, stem from implicit bias, our society’s fear of black men, racism or a combination.
I see my children, especially my 20-year-old son, in the faces of the young men and women of color who have been killed by the police and who have been victims of police brutality. For black parents, teaching our children “what to do when stopped by the police” is a mandatory course for young people of color in this nation. I can’t deny the reality that I have to protect my children from potentially deadly encounters with people whom I respect and who wear the same uniform that I wear.
And while it may be hard for everyday people to understand, I know firsthand the complex, challenging and dangerous nature of being a police officer. As a police chief, I’ve had to tell a wife that her husband, one of my fellow officers, was shot and killed in the line of duty. I’ve seen the emotional, physical and mental toll of the job weigh down my fellow officers. It has been an honor working side by side with so many selfless servants dedicated to helping others. I have no doubt that the overwhelming majority of police officers in this country are brave and honorable public servants. But despite this, racial disparities still exist and there’s a growing divide between officers and civilians along racial lines.
I’ve spent the last 30 years reconciling these unique and conflicting identities. This effort was not without its struggle. I’ve tried to change the perspectives of people and officers around me, I’ve denied that I had differing perspectives of my own, I’ve tried to balance each identity and fit them into a safe — often false — narrative. All of these efforts failed.
Through these experiences, and those of so many officers and people of color, I’ve come to realize that the only way to reconcile these perspectives is to accept each experience and the truth they represent, and to allow them to co-exist. So, here are my truths.
Real reconciliation can only occur when it starts with the truth, no matter the level of discomfort it may cause. The truth may hurt, but selective ignorance is fatal.
I believe the vast majority of police officers do not engage in police brutality, but when tragedies such as the killing of unarmed black people occur, I question why so many of the victims are people who look like me. I’ve been racially profiled by the police. I’ve experienced discrimination in both my personal and professional life. I can’t help but to wonder if these shootings, regardless of their legality, stem from implicit bias, our society’s fear of black men, racism or a combination.
I see my children, especially my 20-year-old son, in the faces of the young men and women of color who have been killed by the police and who have been victims of police brutality. For black parents, teaching our children “what to do when stopped by the police” is a mandatory course for young people of color in this nation. I can’t deny the reality that I have to protect my children from potentially deadly encounters with people whom I respect and who wear the same uniform that I wear.
And while it may be hard for everyday people to understand, I know firsthand the complex, challenging and dangerous nature of being a police officer. As a police chief, I’ve had to tell a wife that her husband, one of my fellow officers, was shot and killed in the line of duty. I’ve seen the emotional, physical and mental toll of the job weigh down my fellow officers. It has been an honor working side by side with so many selfless servants dedicated to helping others. I have no doubt that the overwhelming majority of police officers in this country are brave and honorable public servants. But despite this, racial disparities still exist and there’s a growing divide between officers and civilians along racial lines.